


blown up by you (but you're pretty cool i guess)

by blackrose1002, BlackVultures



Series: MacDalton and Role Reversals [4]
Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Drinking, First Kiss, First Time, Getting Together, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, Idiots in Love, M/M, Memory Loss, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining, Pining, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Hatred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-25
Updated: 2020-03-25
Packaged: 2021-02-28 23:06:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,611
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23305087
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackrose1002/pseuds/blackrose1002, https://archiveofourown.org/users/BlackVultures/pseuds/BlackVultures
Summary: When Mac got there he expected to find Jack already waiting for him since he had less distance to cover, but Mac didn’t see him anywhere. The tac team was there to provide back up, there were paramedics helping the injured civilians... but Jack was nowhere to be seen. Figuring maybe Jack went around to check if the civilians were all out, Mac waited patiently, completely calm except for the adrenaline still coursing through his body and he chatted with one of the guys from the tac team... but then five minutes passed and Jack still wasn’t there.Mac tried to call him through the comms, but there was silence on the other end and Mac suddenly had a bad feeling about all of this. He went back inside much to the tac team’s chagrin, but there was nothing that would keep Mac from going back for Jack and he knew that worked both ways. He picked his way around crying civilians and tireless nurses and doctors, and eventually he made it to what was left of the courtyard. He stepped through a broken window and almost tripped over a body... a body that didn’t look quite like the bad guys scattered around.A body that Mac knew too well.(Or the one where Mac accidentally blows up Jack... and what happens after.)
Relationships: Jack Dalton/Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016)
Series: MacDalton and Role Reversals [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1586485
Comments: 5
Kudos: 98





	blown up by you (but you're pretty cool i guess)

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys! [blackrose1002](https://archiveofourown.org/users/blackrose1002/pseuds/blackrose1002) and I are both stuck at home like the rest of y'all, so we're doing our best to bring you fics! If you couldn't tell by the silly title, this one is the reversal of the fic where Jack accidentally shot Mac - only in this case, Mac accidentally blew Jack up. **I feel like I should note that Mac is a _little_ drunk when he and Jack have sex in this one, but he's aware of what he's doing and it's completely consensual.** As always, any mistakes are my own since I put this bad boy together, and please let us know what you think! Enjoy!
> 
> (Title is made up by me because I'm an idiot.)

Angus MacGyver had spent a lot of his life working under pressure, but it never got any easier—and being pinned down by bad guys with automatic weapons in a hospital emergency room, surrounded by potential civilian casualties? That had bad news written all over it. The worst part was that he could tell Jack was running out of bullets, which mean coming up with a crazy plan fast.

In this case that meant leading all the goons to a central location—the courtyard in the middle of the buildings—to blow them up with the natural gas that powered the lamps that ran along the pathways. The problem was getting them all in one place… and the logical solution was to have Jack lure them there while Mac worked. He offered, and while Mac didn’t like the idea of his partner playing bait, they’d done it before and it was the only option.

He took off and Mac found the controls for the natural gas fairly easily in a utility room that overlooked the courtyard. He had to break the glass cage around them, which made more noise than he would’ve liked, but from the sounds of shouting and gunfire Jack was doing his job and none of their enemies were paying attention to Mac. He looked through the windows to the courtyard and saw a bunch of guys in tac gear with guns shooting toward something he couldn’t see on the far side—Jack, presumably.

They agreed that Jack would wait exactly sixty seconds until after they started shooting at him and then he’d bail, so when a minute passes... Mac threw all the switches for the gas at once, including the one that increases the pressurization. The gas lamps in the courtyard flamed up and exploded spectacularly, and so do some of the pipes underground. The men got thrown up in the air like a child’s toys, but Mac didn’t stick around to see any more, tearing off in the opposite direction to meet up with Jack out in the parking lot.

When Mac got there he expected to find Jack already waiting for him since he had less distance to cover, but Mac didn’t see him anywhere. The tac team was there to provide back up, there were paramedics helping the injured civilians... but Jack was nowhere to be seen. Figuring maybe Jack went around to check if the civilians were all out, Mac waited patiently, completely calm except for the adrenaline still coursing through his body and he chatted with one of the guys from the tac team... but then five minutes passed and Jack still wasn’t there.

Mac tried to call him through the comms, but there was silence on the other end and Mac suddenly had a bad feeling about all of this. He went back inside much to the tac team’s chagrin, but there was nothing that would keep Mac from going back for Jack and he knew that worked both ways. He picked his way around crying civilians and tireless nurses and doctors, and eventually he made it to what was left of the courtyard. He stepped through a broken window and almost tripped over a body... a body that didn’t look quite like the bad guys scattered around.

A body that Mac knew too well.

“Jack?” he said on a disbelieving exhale, and then he scrambled down to roll him over, unable to stop the horrified sound that squeezed out of his throat. Jack was covered in blood and debris from the blast, and it was only after frantically checking for a pulse that Mac could tell he was alive... and _Mac_ was the one who did this to him. He cupped Jack’s face in his hands and felt his eyes fill with tears. “Jack, hey, please wake up—you need to wake up.”

Mac’s hands trembled, panic spreading through him as he tried to get Jack to wake up. It took a moment but then Jack suddenly groaned, a deep, pained sound, and then his eyes opened, blinking slowly with an unfocused gaze. Mac let out a small sob when he saw those brown eyes he loved so much, guilt and self-hatred burning through him like hellfire. Somehow, things went wrong and Jack got caught in the explosion… and it was Mac’s fault.

“Jack?” Mac said, his voice breaking as he tried his best not to cry, and Jack’s gaze turned to him.

Jack clearly had a concussion—his pupils were uneven and while he was looking at Mac it seemed like he had a hard time focusing. He frowned when he saw the expression on Mac’s face, a hand coming up to hang on to one of Mac’s wrists. Before he could say anything, though, a couple of the guys from the tac team ran over with a nurse and a doctor in tow. They wanted to put Jack on a stretcher with a backboard and that was when Mac realized he made another terrible mistake: he moved Jack without checking for a spinal injury first.

Mac’s heart dropped when he realized that on top of almost killing Jack, he risked making his condition even worse. Suddenly, there was a pair of arms wrapping around Mac from behind and pulling him up and away—one of the guys from the tac team, Mac realized. He started struggling, trying to make the guy let him go and it took him a moment to notice that he was repeating “no, no, no” like a mantra, his eyes fixed on Jack. He did this, he hurt Jack, he almost _killed_ him and he needs to be with him... until he realized that so far he’d only made everything worse.

The fight left his body and he let the guy from the tac team drag him away.

~***~

The tac team guy dropped Mac in a chair outside the emergency room, which was where Jack was being looked at, and suggested kindly but firmly that maybe Mac should call Matty and give her a status update. He did, but he felt like he was doing it from far away, or maybe he was listening to someone else’s voice altogether because he didn’t remember his own sounding that rough. Matty said she’d send transport to get them home, and then Mac was left to wait by himself. He wasn’t sure how long passes... but the next thing he knew there was a hand on his shoulder, a familiar one, and he was looking up at Jack, who was evidently able to walk out of the ER under his own power.

“Jack.” Mac gasped, jumping to his feet, reaching to touch Jack but stopping himself at the very last second, his hands hovering between them. Jack’s face was covered with cuts and he was still coated with dust from the explosion. There was also a bruise on his jaw—it wasn’t that big, but that didn’t make Mac feel any better and he immediately started talking, the words stumbling from his lips. “Are you okay? How badly were you hurt? Shouldn’t you be lying—?”

“Mac, hey, calm down,” Jack said, and if he noticed the fact that Mac moved to touch him and then decided against it he didn’t mention it. He put a hand on Mac’s shoulder again, squeezing lightly and offering him a subdued but genuine smile. “It’s not that big of a deal, I’ve got some bruised ribs and a concussion. Can’t remember a damn thing about how I got this way, though—doc said memory loss isn’t uncommon with a concussive blast and that everything should come back to me in a few days.” He looked at Mac intently, worry making his forehead crease. “Are _you_ okay? You look pretty shaken up.”

Realizing that Jack didn’t remember what happened somehow made Mac feel even worse because Jack had no idea that this was all his fault and was treating Mac completely normally. And that was something Mac didn’t deserve, and he knew that once Jack remembered what happened, he wouldn’t want to have anything to do with Mac… and right now Jack was worrying about _Mac_.

“I’m... I’m fine. Just worried about you.” Mac did his best to give Jack a smile, but it felt shaky. He decided it was better not to tell him what happened—that way Mac would have time to quietly remove himself from Jack’s life once they got back home and maybe it would hurt less than Jack pushing him away.

And Mac didn’t know how his face looked, but it must’ve been pretty bad because Jack actually pulled him in for a hug. Not that they didn’t hug, but usually it was more of a sideways embrace or a slap on the back type thing. Mac had to swallow a whimper, arms sliding around Jack as carefully as possible even if he didn’t feel like he deserved to touch him. This was the last time Jack would ever hug him, after all, and Mac was a selfish guy.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” he whispered, because it was the truth.

He shut his eyes when Jack chuckled and gave him a friendly squeeze. “Course I am, hoss. Takes a little more than a little explosion to keep me down.”

They wound up going home on the transport Matty arranged, and she gave them both a couple days off to recover. Mac made himself scarce as soon as he could, which he later found out led to Riley staying with Jack overnight to wake him up every couple hours for concussion protocol. She sent him a text the next morning asking what was going on but Mac ignored it. He felt another stab of guilt at the thought of not staying with Jack and making Riley do it, but it was nothing compared to how guilty he felt for hurting Jack.

Besides, it was better this way. If Mac started getting used to being without Jack now, it would be easier for him once Jack refused to talk to him after remembering what happened. For now that didn’t seem to be the case because Jack kept calling him and texting, but Mac locked himself up at the house and didn’t respond. It was quiet and lonely and Mac was miserable, but that was what he deserved. Two days passed and Jack’s texts got less frequent, so Mac figured he either remembered the explosion or he just gave up, deciding not to bother anymore.

~***~

Jack didn’t so much remember what happened as he made Riley show him the after action report. Mac had written it since Jack was unable to recall part of what happened, and although the way it was phrased didn’t say outright that Mac had caused the explosion that hurt Jack, it was easy enough to put two and two together and make four. Trouble was the kid wasn’t answering his phone, and it took a few days before Jack was cleared by a doctor to drive a car—he wanted to wait until he could drive himself to Mac’s place rather than getting one of the others involved and making Mac feel even worse about what happened.

When he did get to the house it looked like it always does from the outside, and he got to the front door with only a little swearing under his breath. His whole body was sort of one giant bruise, and he had to wait until he was ringing the doorbell to take off his sunglasses, still squinting a little at the glare from the sun. For a moment nothing happened, but then Jack heard a quiet sound, barely audible on the other side of the door, and he instantly knew it was Mac checking who was ringing the doorbell. And then there was another sound, like he was walking away, so Jack banged his fist against the door.

“Mac, I know you’re in there! Come on, man, don’t make me kick down the door.” Jack knew it would be pointless—Mac’s door was reinforced and he would probably hurt himself—but Jack hoped some threatening would make Mac stop being so stubborn and open the door. He remembered belatedly (that’s been happening a lot, post-concussion syndrome is a bitch) that he had a goddamn key to Mac’s place. He opened the door in time to see a very surprised Mac turn around and stare at him. “What, did you forget you gave me a key? I told you that was a mistake,” Jack teased, because humor was his default setting in shitty situations... but then he took another look at Mac and frowns. He looked... terrible, in rumpled pajamas, his hair was a mess, and he had huge bags under his eyes. And there was a smell... was that beer? “Mac? You okay?”

Mac just stared some more, stumbling back a little. “Yeah, I’m just wonderful.” Mac eventually said, his voice hoarse, and he was kind of... slurring? Which was something Mac never did, so it set off alarm bells in Jack’s head. “Never better. What are you doing here, Jack?” He walked in the direction of the kitchen and when Jack followed him, he saw that the inside of the house was a huge mess. There were beer bottles scattered around the living room along with plenty of Mac’s weird inventions lying around, some of them looking like they were smashed into a wall.

“I’m here to check on you, bud,” Jack said, watching as Mac bent to look in the fridge for more beer. When he came out with a bottle he made a triumphant sound that was short lived when Jack snatched it out of his hand. “I think you’ve had enough to drink, don’t you? You smell like a damn brewery.”

“Why do you care?” Mac mumbled under his breath, but Jack heard him just fine. Trying to get the beer from Jack’s hand and failing, Mac huffed in frustration before heading to the living room, tripping over something lying on the floor and almost falling on his face. “Shouldn’t you... be asking Matty to reassign you?”

Jack set the beer down on the counter and followed Mac to the living room, carefully pushing aside the contraption on the floor with his foot. He was genuinely befuddled as to what the fuck was going on—he expected Mac to feel guilty, sure, but a drinking binge and a living room that looked like Thomas Edison threw up in it seemed extreme. “Now why would I do a silly thing like that? You’re my partner, Mac. I don’t want to work with anybody else.”

Mac let out a humorless laugh and spun around to look at Jack, swaying a little from moving too fast. His eyes, usually so blue and bright, were tormented and so miserable that it made Jack’s chest tighten. “Oh, yeah? How ‘bout someone who doesn’t almost kill you, huh? That’d be great, wouldn’t it?”

“Hey, that was an accident,” Jack said, keeping his tone as level and gentle as possible. He put his hands on Mac’s shoulders to steady him because he kept moving around in a way that suggested that along with drinking Mac probably also hadn’t been sleeping. “You know I don’t blame you for that at all, right? It was me that didn’t get out quick enough, Mac.”

“Bullshit,” Mac spat, shaking Jack’s hands off and stepping back. “You got hurt in the expl... explosion I caused, ergo it’s my fault.” Mac stumbled over his words but pushed through. “Y’know... I was always afraid you’d leave, like everyone else. Tried my best to keep you, but I’m just... too fucked up for that.” Mac chuckled, slightly hysterically. “I always do something to make them leave and I’m sure trying to kill you will do the trick just fine.”

“Okay, stop it,” Jack said, and he couldn’t help the anger that crept into his voice. He wasn’t angry at Mac, of course not—he was angry at every asshole who had left Mac behind before. He stepped into Mac’s space and Mac backed up, so they kept doing that dance until Mac’s back hit the living room wall and Jack was standing in front of him. “Mac, I’m not going anywhere. If you want me to leave, you’ll have to shove me out of this house yourself. And again, you didn’t _try_ to kill me, it was an accident. Which means not on purpose, unless my eggs are scrambled worse than I thought.” Speaking of which, Jack was starting to get a headache, but he pushed that aside for now. “And what do you mean you’ve tried your best to keep me?”

“When we first met... well, after you stopped hating me,” Mac corrected himself, not looking at Jack. “I’d... try to help, solve problems. Figured if I was useful, you wouldn’t want to get rid of me right away, y’know?” Mac voice was quiet and he crossed his arms to make himself as small as possible. “I tried not to be so... clingy, so you wouldn’t feel... pressured to stay, but I slipped up a few times. But yet, you stayed… so I started letting my guard down with you, being more... myself. Weird, nerdy and annoying, but you... stayed. I tried to be as useful as possible, so you wouldn’t change your mind.” Mac was still refusing to look at Jack and his gaze was distant, as if he was reliving his memories. “And it was working, you seemed to... I thought that maybe, just for once, I found someone who would always be there, except for Bozer. I was so stupid and naive.” Mac snorted harshly. “So yeah, you know where the door is. Leave. You’ll appreciate it once you don’t have to deal with me anymore.”

Jack felt like Mac just ripped his heart out and stepped on it. “You have no idea, do you?” he asked quietly, and he stepped even closer, bracing one arm against the wall, his other hand reaching out to cup Mac’s jaw and tilt his head until he had to meet Jack’s eyes. “I mean, I don’t know why you would, because I’ve been doing my best to hide it from you for years... but I love you, Mac. I’ve been in love with you for years now, and I never wanted you to see it because I thought then I’d be the one driving you away.” He felt tears burning his eyes and tried to blink them back—if Mac rejected him it would probably kill him, but that was Mac’s choice to make. “But I can’t stand here and listen to you talk about yourself like that without explaining that.”

Mac froze, staring at Jack with wide eyes, and it didn’t look like he was even breathing. “You don’t mean that. You can’t mean that.” Mac took in a shaky breath, his eyes filling with tears. “You don’t... you can’t. Is this some kind of... revenge for almost killing you? Just... breaking me before you leave? Because that’s cruel, even for you.” Mac sniffled, one lonely tear rolling down his cheek. “Someone like you can’t love someone like me.”

Jack almost didn’t know how to respond to that. For a second he thought Mac slapped him, but no, those were just words—a slap would’ve hurt less. And while anyone else in the world would probably lash out, get angry, maybe even storm out the door, Jack did the opposite. He slid his arms around Mac and held him, not quite a hug, not quite pinning him against the wall. Jack pressed his face into Mac’s hair, and he didn’t even care that it wasn’t clean—it smelled like Mac, and that was all that mattered.

“Do you honestly think I’d do something that awful to you?” he murmured, calm as anything despite the way his blood was boiling on the inside. “I don’t know why you think I can’t love you, Mac, but I do. And if you don’t feel the same way, that’s fine—just tell me, and you’ll never have to deal with it again. But I’m not lying to you, and I’m certainly not trying to get back at you for something that wasn’t your fault.”

Mac was silent for a moment, but then suddenly he started trembling in Jack’s arms. “Of course I feel the same way,” he whispered, his voice barely audible to Jack. “I don’t even remember how it felt not to be in love with you.”

And something snapped inside Mac because he let out a loud sob, his fists clenching around Jack’s t-shirt as he pressed himself closer. His knees gave out and if it wasn’t for Jack’s arms around him, he would’ve fallen down. Jack bit back a groan, his entire body aching, but he instinctively tightened his arms around Mac. He slid one arm down so it was under Mac’s thighs and picked him up, just long enough to get them to the couch. It hurt like hell, but it was better than trying to hold him up and comfort him at the same time. The way they landed on the couch meant Mac was sort of in Jack’s lap, but before Jack had time to think about how potentially awkward that was, Mac used his grip on Jack’s shirt to pull him closer, burying his face in his shoulder, crying harder than Jack had ever seen.

“Mac, hey, easy,” Jack soothed, keeping one arm around his waist to hug him, his other hand rubbing his back. “It’s okay. I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Mac’s whole body shook violently against Jack, but eventually he calmed down, his sobs getting quieter until he was only sniffling occasionally. He was still pressed against Jack though, his fists gripping Jack’s t-shirt, and when Mac shifted a little in his lap Jack wasn’t able to stop the pained hiss that escaped his lips. Mac went completely still for a second before he pulled back and looked at Jack with wide, terrified eyes. He didn’t seem as drunk as he was before but he definitely wasn’t sober—Jack didn’t think Mac would’ve let himself get that vulnerable if it weren’t for his inebriated state.

“God, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” Mac breathes out and then a new wave of terror flashed on his face when he realized they were on the couch and there was only one way they could’ve gotten there. “Oh, god, Jack, you... you must be in so much pain, I’m so sorry.”

Mac tried to slide off Jack’s lap, but Jack’s arms held him firmly in place. “Hey, I’m fine,” Jack said, the hand he had on Mac’s back sliding up to card through his hair. Mac tried to move again and Jack just hung on tighter to his waist. “Mac, look at me?” He phrased it like a question deliberately, and after a second those eyes Jack loved so much came back to his face. “I’m pretty much one big bruise, but it’s nothing I haven’t dealt with before.” His thumb stroked over Mac’s cheekbone, then under his eye to wipe away his tears. “If I didn’t want you sitting here, you wouldn’t be sitting here.”

After a moment of staring into Jack’s eyes Mac stopped struggling to get away. He unclenched his fists, pressing his hands flatly where he was gripping the t-shirt earlier, smoothing the wrinkled material with his fingers. He exhaled once, then again, leaning into Jack’s touch, pressing his cheek against his hand. “You really... you really mean it. All of it.” Mac’s voice was full of astonishment, one of his hands sliding up to the back of Jack’s neck, his fingers brushing against Jack’s short hair. “I didn’t think... I didn’t even let myself hope that you could love me the way I love you.”

“Me neither,” Jack admitted, and he couldn’t look away from Mac’s face in that moment. He smiled when Mac’s touch on his neck continued to wander, checking out the skin under his shirt collar, then behind his ears. “I figured if you ever found out you’d just think I was a creepy old man. Especially since I met you when you were barely old enough to drink. But god, Mac, you’re brilliant and selfless and kind, not to mention so goddamn gorgeous... how could I _not_ feel this way about you?”

“They still ask me for my ID at the bars sometimes,” Mac mused absently before he blinked, focusing again on the conversation. “You’re not creepy. And I don’t care how old you are.” Mac’s hand moved to rest on Jack’s shoulder. “And I... I don’t know about all those things you think I am, but I do know that you’re... the best person I know. A person who I thought was straight until five minutes ago, but it’s nice to be wrong sometimes.”

Jack snorted at that, because how could he not. “Thought you were straight too, and I’m very happy to be wrong,” he said, smiling at Mac and ignoring how the bruise on his jaw stings when he does that. The low-level headache that started when he and Mac were arguing was still thumping away at the back of his skull, but it was nothing different from what he’d been experiencing the past few days. “You been sleeping at all, or just guzzling down beer and throwing shit into walls?”

“You wouldn’t have thought I was straight if you had caught me staring at your ass, but I was very sneaky,” Mac said, sounding quite proud of himself. “I’ve done it every day for years.” The rest of what Jack said registered in his brain and he frowned adorably, tilting his head like the cutest puppy. “I... tried sleeping, but couldn’t. Too focused on hating myself.” Mac shrugged, his hand fiddling with the collar of Jack’s t-shirt. “Thought beer would help, but it kinda made it worse. Throwing things also didn’t help, it only reminded me that destroying things is what I do best.”

Jack closed his eyes for a second to get his shit together. “Mac, everybody destroys something sooner or later, that’s just how life is. But I’ve watched you put so much shit together, and I don’t just mean stuff out in the field.” Jack brought his other hand up to hold Mac’s face too, because he needed this message he was trying to send to actually penetrate Mac’s stubborn brain. “You think that team we have, the little family we’ve built, you think they stuck around because of me? It’s _you_ , darlin’—you help people believe in themselves, you help them help other people. You’ve helped _me_ in so many ways. And I’m gonna keep explaining this to you until you understand it, so I hope you like listening to me repeat myself.”

“I always like listening to you.” Mac said, blinking those stupidly blue eyes at Jack. “The team... I guess I never thought of it that way. Because it’s you that’s... you’re the one that everybody loves, the one that can talk to anybody about anything, and make them like you in less than five minutes.” Mac’s lips twitched into a small smile. “You’re the glue that keeps everything together. You keep _me_ together.”

Jack’s eyebrows rose, but he couldn’t deny that hearing Mac talk about him like that made something warm and happy bloom in his chest. “Okay, so what I’ve gathered from this conversation is that we both have some pretty bad self-esteem issues,” he said, and he was only half-joking, because he... didn’t see himself the way Mac did, not at all. “And if you like listening to me I’m happy to talk to you all damn day... but what I’d really like to do now is kiss you.” And there was a disbelieving part of Jack that couldn’t believe he just said that out loud, but he pushed through it. “If that’s something you want?”

Mac’s eyes widened and he subconsciously licked his lips before exhaling shakily. “Yeah, yeah, I... I do want that, a lot.”

He scooted a bit closer, and Jack ignored his pounding heart and used his grip on Mac’s face to pull him forward and press their lips together. Mac’s hand slid to the back of Jack’s neck again while the other one wrapped around Jack’s wrist as their lips slowly moved together, and Jack had kissed many people in his life, but this... this was something else. It was gentle and tentative and exploratory, and Mac kind of tasted like beer and unbrushed teeth but it was _Mac_ —besides, Jack had done much grosser things with his mouth.

And this was like no kiss he’d ever had, the push and pull of it electric and comforting at the same time... it was mind-boggling how much Jack loved it, loved Mac. His teeth nibbled at Mac’s lower lip, just a little bit, and the next thing Jack knew Mac opened for him, a shiver coursing through his whole body. His fingers tightened around Jack’s wrist as their tongues slid together, and Jack couldn’t help the groan that rumbled out of his chest at all the sensation.

Hearing that, Mac shifted in Jack’s lap, spreading his legs so he was straddling him. It allowed him to change the angle a bit, both of his hands cupping Jack’s face now, his tongue mapping out the inside of Jack’s mouth. Jack wrapped his arms around Mac’s waist and pulled him closer, ignoring his body screaming in protest, and it wasn’t until he bit down on Mac’s lip again and Mac’s hips twitched that Jack remembered Mac was kind of wasted and Jack was kind of in pain.

“Mac, baby, hang on,” Jack said against his mouth, and even though there was evidently some tape-delay when Mac was drunk he did pull back, blinking slowly at Jack with eyes that were partially inebriated but mostly turned on, and from one lousy kiss... with _Jack_ , and wasn’t that a heady thought? “You’re kinda drunk and I’m... not in the best shape. Maybe some sleep would do us both good?” He was aware that it was the middle of the morning, but still, neither one of them had exactly been getting rest.

Mac’s eyes widened when he remembered Jack was hurt. “Shit, I’m sorry,” he said, sliding his hands from Jack’s face to his shoulders. “Yeah, sleep... sleep sounds good.” The corner of his lips twitched up in a smile. “You called me ‘baby’. I like that.”

Jack grinned at him, leaning forward to press another kiss to Mac’s lips just because he could. “Then I guess I’ll have to keep doing it—and stop apologizing, it’s not like I’m falling apart.” And to prove that point—and because he didn’t want to sleep on the couch—Jack hooked his hands under Mac’s thighs and lifted, standing up from the couch with an armful of very surprised blond genius who squeaked and grabbed on to him for dear life. “Oh relax, I ain’t gonna drop you.”

“Holy shit,” Mac breathed out, staring down at Jack as he walked toward Mac’s bedroom. “You know, you’re making it very... _hard_ not to kiss you senseless. Pun absolutely intended.” Leaning down, Mac pressed his lips to Jack’s ear. “I love how strong you are.”

That thing Jack said about not dropping Mac? He needed to take it back. “You know, I’d like to have a suave and seductive reply to that, but my mind is blank,” he said, and laughed when Mac snorted in amusement against the side of his head. “Not surprised you have that effect on me, though.” And he did drop Mac, right on his bed—or he would’ve, if the clever bastard hadn’t hung on and dragged Jack down with him, grinning smugly. “You little...” Jack trailed off, leaning his weight on one forearm... and he had to kiss that pretty smile, even if they’d agreed anything beyond kissing was best reserved for after a nap.

Mac seemed very happy with Jack’s decision, letting out a pleased hum against his lips, wrapping his arms around Jack’s back. He instantly opened up for Jack and Jack slipped his tongue between Mac’s lips—he was a weak man when it came to Mac, especially since he was allowed to kiss him now. Mac’s hands explored his back through Jack’s t-shirt before one of his hands slid lower to grope Jack’s ass.

At the same time Mac spread his legs for Jack to settle between them and it pressed them together in the best way. Jack groaned when he felt Mac was already half-hard and Jack himself wasn’t doing any better which was... unfortunate, considering they weren’t supposed to do anything. Mac was still drunk and Jack was still in pain, but when Mac hooked his leg over Jack’s hips to bring them closer and grind against him, Jack discovered that he started caring about pain less and less with every second.

Jack made an attempt to pull away from Mac but got reeled back in almost immediately for another passionate, filthy kiss. The second time he pulled back Jack was smarter and moved his lips across Mac’s cheek to his jaw, nipping lightly. His mouth sucked a bruise into the underside of that perfect jut of bone, one of his hands wandering into Mac’s ridiculous hair, fingers tangling in the stands. His hips rocked down of their own volition, seeking that friction that Jack found a moment later, Mac groaning underneath him.

And Jack had essentially given up on being responsible—this was the best he’d felt in a long time—but he needed to be sure he and Mac were on the same page. “What do you want, baby? You’ve gotta tell me.”

“Jack.” Mac whined, throwing his head back, his one hand squeezing Jack’s ass while the other scratched Jack’s back. “Fuck me, Jack, please, I... need you inside me.” He snapped his hips upwards, the hand that wasn’t on Jack’s ass sliding lower until Mac slipped it under Jack’s t-shirt, running it against bare skin. “Please, Jack.”

The sound that came out of Jack’s mouth against Mac’s neck couldn’t be qualified as human—it was this low, broken noise, and Jack used his grip on Mac’s hair to tug his head back further and bite his neck, sucking a deeper bruise into delicate skin and relishing in the sounds Mac made. His free hand moved lower to the hem of Mac’s shirt, and they broke apart temporarily to get rid of their shirts since they were just in the way. Now Mac was left in sweatpants while Jack still had jeans and boots to get rid of, but Mac’s mouth was too tempting and Jack found himself licking his way back past Mac’s lips like he had forgotten how to do anything else.

Jack’s hand found its way back to Mac’s hair and Mac moaned brokenly when Jack tugged it again, his fingers digging into Jack’s back. Jack ground down against Mac again and for a moment they just rocked together like that, the friction enough to drive them both insane. Eventually, Mac slid his hands to the front of Jack’s jeans, his fingers quickly working on the button and the zipper despite his inebriated state, and then he shoved his hand into his pants, pressing it against Jack’s cock through his underwear.

Jack moaned, his hips jerking forward into Mac’s touch, and then Jack shoved his own pants down and off, kicking off his boots in the process. Mac’s fingers wrapped around him through the thin barrier of his underwear, not stroking, just groping and teasing. Jack took his hand out of Mac’s hair in favor of using both hands to get at his sweatpants, pulling them down and whining when he saw Mac naked underneath him, perfect and damp with sweat. He wrapped his rough hand around Mac’s cock and gave him a stroke, just because he could.

Mac groaned, thrusting into Jack’s hand, and he moved his hands to shove Jack’s underwear down as much as he could before Jack kicked it down the rest of the way. Jack stroked Mac a few times, mesmerized by how responsive Mac was to his touch and how wrecked he looked, but while Jack would’ve loved to see how long he could tease Mac, he remembered very well what Mac begged him to do just minutes ago. Reaching for Mac’s nightstand, Jack yanked the drawer open and just like he hoped, he found the lube and a strip of condoms, and he tossed them on the mattress. As he poured lube on his fingers, Jack let Mac pull him down in a dirty kiss while his hand traveled down, his finger rubbing teasingly against Mac’s entrance.

Mac’s legs spread even further as soon as he felt that first finger circling his hole, gasping in a breath when Jack pushed inside. Jack, meanwhile, had to bury his face in Mac’s shoulder for a moment when he felt how hot and tight he was around that first finger, because he was already imagining how it would feel around his cock and he didn’t want to come on the spot. He pushed that finger in and out for a moment before adding a second one, feeling Mac’s hands grip at his already bruised back in a way that was sure to leave more marks. It hurt, his entire body aching, but Jack didn’t give a fuck—all that mattered is that Mac was moaning under him, his hips twitching as he tried to fuck himself on Jack’s fingers. When Jack scissored his fingers and pushed them deeper Mac arched with a shout, his blue eyes wide and glazed with arousal.

“Jack,” Mac basically sobbed when Jack added a third finger, and Jack’s breath stuttered out of him because _he_ was the one to make Mac look and sound like that. Mac’s fingers scrabbled at his back and shoulders, and then they got a grip on his neck and pulled him down for a messy kiss. “Please fuck me,” he begged, breathless and wanton, and how was Jack supposed to refuse him?

He couldn’t, and he didn’t want to. “Condom?” he asked, because he had to, he wasn’t that jerk.

“I’m clean,” Mac gasped, whining when Jack removed his fingers. “Please, Jack, I trust you.”

Those three little words were enough to knock the remaining air out of Jack’s lungs and he kissed Mac again, all teeth and tongue. He was clean as well, so after pulling back he coated himself with lube before spreading Mac’s legs and lining himself up against his entrance. He took a deep breath and after glancing at Mac who was watching him with eyes almost black with lust, Jack started pushing in, groaning at how fucking tight Mac was.

Mac’s hands were like claws against Jack’s biceps, his lips parting so he could suck in a ragged breath as Jack slowly but steadily fills him up until he was buried to the hilt in Mac’s constrictive warmth. Jack was braced on his forearms but he leaned down enough to push his face into Mac’s neck, squeezing his eyes shut and staying perfectly still to give Mac time to adjust. He had to concentrate to keep his hips still, because all his body wanted to do was thrust forward and _take_ , but he wouldn’t do that.

“You... you can move,” Mac gasped after a moment, wrapping his legs around Jack’s waist and squeezing.

Breathing out against Mac’s neck, Jack pulled himself up and his first few thrusts were shallow and cautious even though there was a big part of him that just wanted to... dominate and claim Mac, hard and fast, but Jack forced that part of him to shut up, at least for now. Mac made these little noises underneath him, arms wrapping around Jack’s back to grip at his shoulders. That sent little tingles of pain up Jack’s spine that he enjoyed probably way too much and also spurred him to thrust a little faster, a little harder. He slid one arm under Mac’s lower back to raise him up and change the angle and Mac _howls_ on the next thrust in, which told Jack he found his prostate.

And that sound made something snap inside Jack and his control slipped as he picked up the pace even more, pounding into Mac harder. Mac was letting out these loud screams basically with every thrust and Jack couldn’t help but growl when Mac arched under him, his nails scratching Jack’s shoulders. With the next slam of Jack’s hips Mac was coming, untouched and crying out Jack’s name, using his grip on Jack’s back to curl himself into Jack. Hearing Mac say his name like that and feeling him squeeze around his cock was almost enough to make Jack come, but not quite, his hips still pistoning into Mac’s body. He would’ve felt bad about that, except Mac was gripping him tightly with all four limbs and had his mouth pressed against his ear.

“Come for me, Jack—I want you to, I wanna feel you fill me up,” he panted, and Jack knew that if it wasn’t for the alcohol Mac (probably) wouldn’t have said such filthy things, but it had the desired effect.

Jack slammed into him a few more times before he started to come, hips twitching through the aftershocks as he emptied himself inside Mac. Once his hips stilled, Jack collapsed on top of Mac, he couldn’t help it. He panted against Mac’s neck, his body trembling a little and for a moment he just couldn’t move. Now that he wasn’t focused on fucking Mac through the mattress he felt how much his body hurt and the headache that subsided before once again made itself known. Mac’s legs slipped from around his waist and fell on the bed, and his arms weren’t gripping him as tightly, but Mac kept them around Jack, one of his hands stroking Jack’s back.

Jack used the arm he had under Mac’s back as leverage to pull out slowly, and then he rolled them over so he was on his back and Mac settled on his chest. This also put Mac at eye-level with a lot of Jack’s bruises, purple and blue and black and spread all over his ribs and the muscles of his torso, some more painful than others.

Jack kept his arm around Mac’s waist and pressed a kiss to his hair. “I could’ve sworn we weren’t gonna do that,” he muttered, more amused than anything else.

“I’m a bad influence.” Mac mumbled, grinning into Jack’s chest before Jack felt him tense against him. “You... you don’t regret it, right?” Mac asked quietly, his voice unsure, his fingers lightly mapping out Jack’s bruises. Since he still wasn’t sober he wasn’t as control of his strength and Jack bit back a pained groan when Mac pressed his fingers a bit too hard against one of the bruises.

It was nothing that Jack couldn’t handle, and he wasn’t going to make Mac feel bad about it when clearly he was already insecure. “Of course not,” he rumbled out, bringing up his free hand to cup Mac’s cheek and get him to make eye contact. Because even if Jack knew he was going to be sore all over and might wind up with a migraine in a few hours, it was worth it to get to be with Mac like this. “ _You_ don’t regret it, right?”

Mac’s eyes widened as he immediately started shaking his head, as much as he could while lying down. “No, Jack, of course not.” He moved his hand up so his fingers could stroke Jack’s jaw and the bruise he had there. “I love you.” Mac smiled widely, but that sunshine dimmed after his gaze shifted to the bruises again. “You alright?”

“I’m just fine,” Jack said, and he meant it, because looking at Mac’s smile made everything better, as cheesy as it sounded. The hand he had on Mac’s face moved to grasp Mac’s hand where it was touching Jack’s jaw, and he turned it over to press a kiss to the back of it. “They’re just bruises, darlin’. There’s a lot of them, but I’ll be okay.”

“That’s good,” Mac said, snuggling back into Jack’s chest. They were covered in sweat and drying come, but Mac didn’t seem to mind and really, Jack didn’t have it himself to move. “I know it’s only like... noon,” Mac muttered, his voice getting that drowsy edge. “But how ‘bout that nap now?”

“I think that’s a fantastic idea,” Jack said, and yawned as if to prove his point. He twitched his foot until he could catch the edge of Mac’s blankets and pulled them up over both of them. He smiled when Mac makes a contented sound and curled into him, and they both fell asleep.

At some point during their nap Mac started flailing around, like drunk people tend to do in their sleep, and since Jack didn’t need more bruises on top of what he had he crawled on the floor and decided to nap there. It probably wasn’t the smartest thing to do, he probably should’ve gotten up and gone to the couch, but Jack wasn’t entirely awake when he made that choice, he was tired and his head was pounding, and the floor was the closest thing. He fell back to sleep right away since he could literally sleep anywhere after his years in the Army and then the CIA.

~***~

A few hours later, Mac woke up and regretted every time he drank alcohol ever. It wasn’t the worst hangover he’d ever had because it didn’t occur overnight, but his mouth still felt like something died in it and a headache was throbbing at his temples. He also really, really had to piss, and that unfortunately meant getting out of bed. He was so fucked up that he barely noticed he was naked and covered in come, more concerned with getting to the bathroom—and that was why he didn’t look before he got out of bed and immediately tripped and wiped out on the floor. He caught himself on his forearms and wound up on his side, groaning at the impact... and then sucking in a sharp breath when he saw what he tripped on: Jack, naked and prone on the floor, covered in bruises.

Everything came crashing into his mind like a tsunami, a wave of memories, all of them: the mission, the bomb, Jack getting hurt—that was what his brain focused on, the memories of their talk and Jack fucking Mac like there was no tomorrow getting pushed aside while panic spread through his body. His mind flashed back to that damn hospital and finding Jack lying like that, covered in blood and Mac surged forward, his hands trembling. His mind was a clouded mess, but he remembered that he moved Jack and he wasn’t supposed to do that, so he wasn’t risking it.

“Jack?” Mac tried shakily, his trembling hands frantically touching Jack’s back and shoulders, tears forming in his eyes. “Jack?” Mac let out a sob, his mind not registering that Jack was just asleep.

Jack woke with an inelegant snort, Mac’s fingers skating over his back as another sob left his lips. That had Jack rolling over, maybe too fast because he groaned in pain. “Ow, Mac, what—” He stopped, eyes going wide when he took in their positioning and how it was eerily similar to what happened at the hospital. “Hey, hey, hey, I’m okay.” He rushed to reassure Mac, sitting up and pulling him into a hug. “We’re not there, Mac, everything’s all right.”

Mac wrapped his arms around Jack, burying his face in his neck, trying to calm himself down. “I thought... you were...” Everything slowly started clearing and he was able to recognize that Jack was okay, that they were at his house... also, now that he knew that, the memories of Jack coming over and everything that happened next came back much clearer and stronger than before.

“I know, I know, it’s okay,” Jack whispered. He rubbed a hand up and down Mac’s back and waited for him to calm some more, pressing a kiss to the side of his head. “You’re not getting rid of me that easy.”

Taking in a shaky breath, Mac sniffled and pulled away to look at Jack’s face, one of his hands gently cupping his jaw. “Why... why were you even on the floor?” Mac asked quietly, his voice hoarse, both from crying and screaming a few hours before when they were having sex.

Jack covered Mac’s hand with his own to steady it. “Apparently you’re the kind of drunk who moves around a lot in your sleep,” he said, chuckling a little. “I decided I’d rather not get punched, so I got on the floor instead—in retrospect, the couch probably would’ve been a smarter idea.”

Mac snorted out a small laugh, but it still sounded more like a sob. “Probably.” He really wanted to lean in and kiss Jack, but there was something holding him back. What if Jack changed his mind? “You should have kicked me out of bed. You’re hurt and you had to sleep on the floor, I’m so sorry.”

Jack evidently didn’t have any of the hesitations Mac did, because he leaned in and pressed their lips together. “Nah, you’re too cute for me to kick out of bed,” he said, and although his tone was joking, the look in his eyes was serious. “And you don’t need to be sorry—I think it actually helped straighten out my back. Speaking of being hurt, though, are you okay? You took a pretty good spill there, sweetheart.”

“I’m fine.” Mac shook his head and finally he managed to smile, the knot in his chest slowly loosening. His other hand joined the first one on Jack’s face and he rubbed the skin under his eyes with his thumbs. “I’m... I can’t believe this actually happened,” he whispered, wonder in his voice. “I didn’t dream this, did I?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” Jack said, and he smiled when this time he leaned in to kiss Mac and got met halfway. “But I’m pretty sure it’s real,” he added, a hand coming up to push Mac’s hair out of his face. “I love you a whole lot, you know that?”

“I love you too, just as much.” Mac smiled, pressing their lips together again. “And I’m... sorry. About earlier.”

“Hey, I was just worried about you,” Jack said, like forgiving Mac’s drunken outburst was as easy as breathing. “But Mac, you’ve gotta understand something... all that shit you said about you being too weird or annoying for me? That’s crap, man. I’ve never thought that, even when we were just friends.”

“I just... it happened so many times before that I just... assumed it would be the same with you.” Mac said. “But I should have known... you seem to be an exception to every rule.”

“I try my best to defy expectations,” Jack said, and gave Mac a kiss on the forehead, shutting his eyes and lingering there. “And you took any rules I had and blew them out of the water, so I guess we’re even.”


End file.
